


In Sickness

by snarechan



Category: Free!
Genre: Friendship, High Speed!, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, Romantic Friendship, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cold can’t bring them down. At least, not all at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demishock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demishock/gifts).



> Written for my good friend and soul sister, Demishock (who consequently beta read her own gift for me). She wanted to see the trope of someone getting sick, spreading it on, and then having to take care of their caretaker(s). So by golly I gave her someone getting sick…and you get the idea. :Db 
> 
> There is a tiny reference to the _High Speed!_ novelization that the anime is based off of, but readers don't have to enjoyed it to understand this story.

Haruka not answering the door wasn’t cause for concern – it was when Makoto couldn’t find him cooking fish in the kitchen for breakfast or soaking in the bathtub that things became worrisome. The thought that he might have already gone ahead to school was fleeting. His friend could be prompt, but not without good motivation. A nervous glance at his watch informed Makoto that they’d be late for class if he wasn’t alerted soon.

“Haru?” he called, voice echoing throughout the house. His entire body shook at the sound of it, and his search efforts doubled. “ _Haruka_ \- Oh.”

Makoto passed the open bedroom door, noticing the lumpy outline on the mattress. There was no indication that his friend had heard him, the only sign that a person even existed under the blanket the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Haru?” Makoto asked again, approaching the bed and giving the approximate area of his friend’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Time to get up-”

A strangled scream escaped Makoto as Haruka bolted upright with zero warning. The sheet slipped down until it revealed him wearing his swimsuit as pajamas. Such a revelation was not enough to deter him.

“W-what…? Haru, you should be ready for school! Why are you still asleep?” he asked, after regaining his breath.

“Ah,” was all Haruka said.

He tossed the rest of the bedding aside to get up. As he planted both feet on the floor and stood, his balance was thrown and he stumbled. Makoto caught him by latching onto his shoulder a second time, but during this instance he distinctly felt the heat coming off him.

“Haru… You’re sick!”

Having regained his equilibrium, Haruka gently grasped Makoto’s fingers with his own to remove his hand.

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

Makoto concernedly watched as he got dressed, but true to his word, Haruka finished with no further complications. He grabbed his bag and waited for Makoto by the bedroom door.

“Are you sure you’re up to it? Miss Amakata will understand if you need to skip today.”

“We’re going to miss the first bell if we dawdle.”

“At least eat something,” Makoto insisted, finally moving to leave with him.

“I’ve got mackerel jerky in my backpack. I’ll eat it on the way.”

“That is _not_ what I meant!” he protested, but it fell on deaf ears.

* * *

“Ah, Makoto… Is Haru not feeling well? He looks paler than he did yesterday,” Rei whispered to him as they traveled the hallways of their school. Although they were not in the same grade, it wasn’t uncommon for everyone to cross paths on their way to and from lunch.

“I think he caught a cold when he spent so much time in the pool,” he confessed, staring ahead.

A minor slump had overcome Haruka, starting at the shoulder blades. Aside from the pallor of his skin, he carried on reasonably – at least, by appearances.

Rei nodded, pushing his glasses back into place. “Mm, I do recall you warning him not to keep wet in that weather. All these cold rain fronts are making it difficult for us to train.”

Nagisa arrived then, rushing out of a nearby classroom as his fellows trickled out. He noticed Makoto first, then Rei and Haruka.

“Hi everybody! How are…” he trailed off, even going so far as to slow in his steps as soon as he spotted Haruka’s state.

“Wow, are you sick?” Before Haruka could respond, Nagisa shook his head. “Mako warned you to dry off as soon as you took breaks from the pool!”

Haruka didn’t deny it, but neither did he comment at all, and kept walking.

“Aw, wait! I wanted to tell you where we should meet up to eat!” Nagisa yelled after him; despite Haruka’s harried state, all three of them had to rush to keep up.

* * *

By the next afternoon, Haruka’s house had become a quarantine zone.

Nagisa was slumped over the low table, forehead and cheek pressed into the cooler surface. Across from him sat Rei, swaddled in blankets and nursing a thermometer that beeped at 37° C. At the sight of them, Makoto stood at the door and shifted his grip on the container of miso soup he carried.

“Why is everybody here? Shouldn’t you two be at home, in bed?”

“Haru gave me his cold when we sat together at lunch,” Nagisa mumbled into the tabletop.

“He should take responsibility for not staying home and giving it to us,” Rei added, except with his throat swollen and mouth still supporting the thermometer, it came out sounding more like a drawn out, ‘ _Ugh._ ’

“I…see.”

Makoto didn’t, but there were no more questions. He just went about grabbing more bowls to distribute dinner.

“Where is Haru right now?” he asked, setting the food down in easy reach of the table’s occupants. While he was at it, he gave Rei a side order of ibuprofen and Nagisa an ice pack to apply to the back of his neck.

“Bathroom,” they answered in tandem, each sluggishly digging into the soup. Rei had difficulty getting most of it anywhere near his mouth, the blanket taking most of the impact as he mumbled, “So not beautiful…”

“Right, right.”

The shower was running when Makoto got there, so he knocked on the door. “Haru? My mom made us soup. You should probably get some liquids in you to keep hydrated.”

His answer was the shower cutting off and the rustling of a towel. He waited beside the door, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. When Haruka finally exited, he looked a little livelier than when he’d last seen him. Then again, having showered off all the sweat may have contributed.

“How are you feeling?” Makoto immediately asked, reaching forward to place his palm on Haruka’s forehead.

Haruka looked as if he was going to say one thing, but what came out was a reluctant, “Better.”

Makoto nodded once, letting his arm drop. “Good, that’s good. I just wanted to make sure because…” _he’d heard all this before_ , which he couldn’t voice aloud.

He smiled wanly.

“Come on, before Nagisa and Rei eat your share, too.”

When he made to return to the kitchen, there was a tug on the back of his shirt that stopped him in his tracks. Glancing over his shoulder, it was confirmed that Haruka had snagged it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Stop worrying,” Haruka insisted, “or you’ll become ill, too.”

“Ah, right.”

Haruka’s fist clenched tighter.

“The steam really did help. The water is making recovery much smoother.”

The tension in Makoto’s back eased, his smile coming a little easier. “I’m glad. Keep that up and you should be cured in no time.”

Haruka nodded, releasing his clothes and following him into the kitchen. The container of soup was nearly empty when they arrived. To supplement, they ended up ordering four large pizzas from Goro Sasabe for dessert.

* * *

There was a loud tapping sound coming from… _somewhere_ , but Makoto tried to pay it no mind. The disturbance persisted, however, and he forced himself through the aches and pains of lifting his head to regard the door. Gradually, it registered that someone was trying to get his attention.

“Who is it?” he called – rasped, truthfully, his throat as sore as the rest of him.

Taking the inquiry as an invitation, the door burst open to admit Nagisa, who’d returned to full spirit.

“Heya, Mako! Look what we brought you,” he said, carting a pile of blankets.

Behind him were Rei and Haruka, handling a stack of notes that must be his missed homework and a pot of what smelled like bitter tea, respectfully.

“How…” he faltered, trying to scramble upright and failing. “You guys shouldn’t be here! I’m not feeling well and-”

“Oh, don’t worry! You probably caught what we had, so there’s no way we can get sick again,” Nagisa said, waving off his protests. He dumped the entirety of different throws and quilts and sheets on his lap, folding him into the giant mound. The pattern on most of them was penguins.

“I gathered all your assignments from your teachers. They’d already set them aside to pick up,” Rei added, setting them with his books. “Our club advisor sends her well-wishes to get better. So does Gou.”

He held out a small card from the pile of stapled sheets of paper, her neat handwriting on the envelope. Makoto had to squirm a bit to retrieve it; inside was a small card detailing Kou’s condolences and promises to keep the team in shape during his absence.

“Is that your Grandmother’s old blend?” Makoto asked Haruka, looking up from the letter. Before he’d started pouring the tea into cups, the scent was just faint enough to almost get stuck in his nose, but now that it was exposed to the air there was the sensation of his sinuses bursting open.

“I had some left over from when I brewed a batch for myself,” Haruka confirmed.

He handed Makoto the first cup, though no one else – Haruka included – made a move to accept a drink of their own. They’d probably had enough exposure to the strong tea to last them a lifetime, if Haruka had already prepared some earlier. Mentally reciting a small prayer, Makoto threw back the first sip and almost couldn’t choke it down. It was as… _potent_ as he remembered it being, when he and Haruka had caught the stomach flu together as children and she’d forced it upon them for a week straight.

“You missed the assembly today,” Nagisa recited, settling by the head of his bed. The rest of them found seated positions on the floor nearby, also, informing him of their day and plans for the rest of the week.

As they spoke amongst themselves, Makoto nursed his tea and was lulled into a comfortable state. He’d been struggling with sleep, coughing fits coming and going at night and making it difficult. The fevered nightmares hadn’t helped matters, but with the drink banishing the chills wracking his insides and company to watch over him, he dozed into a peaceful rest.

That was, until his younger siblings burst into the house after their neighbor picked them up from a friend’s, making a mad leap onto his bed. Then it was chaos as they insisted everyone make him miso soup, too. Thankfully, the only thing infectious was Makoto’s laughter at the group’s antics.

-Fin-


End file.
